


History

by ShaeLynn



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Assumed name, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, possible triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaeLynn/pseuds/ShaeLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noral was a thief, a very good one.  Nori is a brother, and the same dwarf.  History made the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to go in my Misc One-shots, but then it got a bit longer and that many words deserved a story of its own. If anyone can think of a better title after reading this or a better summary, let me know. ^_^

“Dori, Dori!” the thief hissed to get the other dwarf’s attention.

It was only a quick glance around before Dori pulled the thief behind a couple trees so they were not seen or heard from the camp. Both Dori and his youngest brother had been forced to bite their tongues when they had been introduced to the last of the dwarrows brought onto the quest. Noral was, as Dwalin had explained, working off a debt to King Thorin by accompanying them. Unfortunately, the Captain of the King’s Guard had kept as close an eye on the thief as possible so there had been no chance to speak with him, but Dwalin had gone ahead to make certain their destination was as safe as they were told before the King arrived.

“Nori,” Dori whispered quietly before pulling the other to him in a gentle, but fierce hug, rejoicing at having his younger brother in his arms again after so many decades without seeing him.

When he finally pulled back, the thief’s eyes were red, but any tears had been soaked up by his older brother’s tunic. He ran a hand over the side of Dori’s elaborate braids, his chin quivering slightly, “Change your braids, brother, please. Please. I could not stand to see those in Mother’s hair, I do not wish to see them in yours.”

“I’m sorry, Nori. I’m so sorry. Balin specifically asked for Ori to accompany them as Scrivener for the quest. I couldn’t allow him to go without me. Every company needs a Release. There was no other way I could see to go and a Release is not allowed to be mistreated. We have all done what we needed to do in order to keep Ori from the cruelties we’ve faced,” Dori answered, a finger running lightly over the braided eyebrow that led into one of the Thief braids barely visible beneath Nori’s elaborate hairstyle.

Nori turned his face away slightly, eyes closed, but he didn’t pull away from his brother’s arms wrapping around him in comfort, both trying not to think of the events which had led to Nori’s second craft.

 --------------------

Through the next weeks, Dori was able to keep his interactions with the other members of the company quiet from Nori’s eyes and ears, not wanting the younger dwarf to be upset any more than simply seeing the braids in his hair were making him. But then came the night they stopped at a ruined farmhouse and Thorin loudly informed Dori that he would attend to him that evening after food was consumed.

At Dori’s quiet agreement, Nori pulled his elder brother away from the group slightly, the two of them arguing quietly, though the company knew whatever they were discussing was unpleasant from their expressions. Ori hid his face in his open journal, recording events from the last day as was his place in the company. He already knew what the argument was about and kept his head down so none asked him of it.

A few hours later Thorin casually asked what the argument was about and the impact it would have on the company or quest. Dori frowned, glad that he was on his hands and knees where the King couldn’t see, “It is not an issue, sir. Just a matter from the past which has no hindrance to the quest or my position in the company.”

“Good. See that it remains that way, Mister Dori,” Thorin grunted out between strokes.

It was not much later that they were all running into a troll camp, weapons drawn. Dori let his mind go with the battle adrenaline running through him, his body remembering the training he had endured for twenty years. He didn’t notice in the heat of the short battle that at least one pair of eyes had followed him through the fight whenever they could, narrowed in thought. Afterwards, when they were spread out with some in the troll cave and others relaxing, Dori was pulled aside by a member of the company, but not for what he thought would be requested.

Bifur had made use of him once at the beginning before they had even reached the Shire, but despite his manner, there had been nothing threatening about the interaction. He had been almost gentle in how he had treated Dori and was one of the few that had asked to bring him pleasure as well. Dori wasn’t concerned if the disabled warrior wished to enjoy his body again, even with the heat of battle no doubt still running through his veins. However, Bifur didn’t ask for that, instead looking at him piercingly when he gestured his question in Iglishmek, making Dori gape for a moment.

“Yes, I was trained as a warrior.” A few more gestures and Dori was shaking his head, “No, it was never official. My family comes before my craft. I wear these braids from necessity, not because I was untrained in other crafts. My braids should be much different, but this is where my life has led me, so I do what I must.”

Bifur nodded and backed away with a bow, leaving Dori standing there slightly confused. He didn’t have much time to ponder over the other dwarf’s strange behavior as they were soon interrupted by another, stranger, wizard and then with an orc pack running them down. In Rivendell there was little time to think things through over Bifur’s unexpected confrontation about his abilities. Despite the abundance of elves, the company was relaxed enough to use the opportunity to relieve any pent-up tension. And for that Dori’s services were in more use than ever. Nori kept himself as scarce as he could during those days, but it wasn’t until they were climbing the hills outside of the hidden valley that Dori realized neither Bifur nor his cousins had made use of him.

By the time they reached the mountain paths, it was obvious to Dori that Bifur must have said something to his cousins about his braids. The three of them all treated him like they did the other warriors of the company, including Bifur, though much friendlier than how they interacted with the rest. He also noticed Nori spent more time than usual around the three, specifically Bofur. Likely the choice was because they no longer used him, but Bofur and his younger brother grew closer in their interactions every day and Dori smiled at the thought Nori might not be left alone someday if he and Ori fell.

Until Goblin Town’s escape, they hadn’t needed to fight again and Dori let his instincts take over once more, though this time he kept an eye out for his brothers, ensuring they hadn’t gotten left behind. As it was, two more sets of eyes regarded his abilities carefully and noticed his constant checks on Ori and Nori. There was little time to breathe after their flight in the moments before Bilbo returned to them, looking roughed-up on his own. Then they were climbing trees and falling and flying and old enemies opened old wounds.

There had been no one else left to care for Ori when the call for Azanulbizar went out. Their mother had already changed her braids and walked the darker districts for coins so she could feed her family, and Nori had left, unable to handle seeing their mother’s craft turned into something so demeaning. Dori was only just considering learning the warrior’s craft at the time, but he would have earned his warrior braids simply by being there. He couldn’t leave Ori though.

After the dragon came and Ori’s father fell, there was no longer anyone willing to patron a courtesan even temporarily and their mother had done what was necessary to survive when the jewelry she had worn from the mountain that day was gone. It was the only time he had ever felt resentment towards his brothers and it had only lasted as long as it took for the survivors to trickle back to those left behind with news of the slaughter.

The base if the Carrack earned the company a single peaceful night’s rest after the adrenalin fueled hours and Dori prepared himself as best he could for the inevitable release the company would need with how hot dwarrow blood ran in battle. He wasn’t prepared for Dwalin and Balin to both confront him at once. While unusual, it was not unheard of for warriors to sometimes take their pleasure together from a company’s Release, but with Dwalin’s first words, such was obviously not the case.

“You are trained as a warrior. Why did you not simply tell Thorin that? No warrior would have been turned away.”

Dori looked between the brothers for a moment before he answered, “I could not join the Guards afterwards so never earned the braids. It wasn’t my place to claim the craft if I was unable to wear the braids.”

The two brothers shared a look and Balin spoke, “Why could you not join the Guards?”

“Ori was too young to be on his own and our mother had passed to the stone just days before. My family is more important to me than any craft I’ve learned.”

“I thought you were too familiar. I trained with you, though you were well past the age of learning a craft. We shared bedrolls,” Dwalin said quietly to his brother’s astonishment.

“Yes, we did. The warrior craft was not the first I had learned, but after the dragon, it became safer to hide those braids or not wear them at all. There were not enough of the craft that survived the Guild’s destruction and none were willing to take on another mouth to feed and care for, especially not with children as well.”

Dwalin frowned heavily before leaving, going directly to Thorin whom was being treated for his injuries by Oin. Balin kept his attention on Dori though, his eyes calculating. “What was your craft? Certainly not the one you are currently living with. You know far too much about—” Balin cut himself off as his eyes widened. “That’s impossible, all those known were killed.”

“Not everyone made it out of the mountain in the same location. My family was in Dale. Ori’s father was killed getting Mother and the rest of us to safety. He’d been her patron for nearly forty years. She didn’t live in the Guild Halls any longer and few paid attention to her braids with Maron around.”

Balin gaped at the name Dori had thrown out. Maron had been the retired head of King Thror’s armies, one of his most trusted advisors. It had been well known through the mountain that he had found a courtesan worth his patronage, but her identity was never mentioned. No word had ever been made about the dwarf siring a child and to find that it was one of those he had taken under his wing to train as a scribe left him dumbfounded. Maron had taken a young Balin under his wing and turned him into the warrior that he was, just as he had trained Ori in his second craft.

Before he could say anything else, Dwalin returned, Thorin slowly walking at his side with a frown to match the larger warrior. “Dwalin has told me of your training. Why was I not informed of it when you signed on,” the King demanded.

“When one cannot wear the braids of a craft, but claim to be trained in it, they are looked down upon worse than one wearing braids as I do now. I have gone through such an attempt before, sire, and found myself in much more dire straits. The kingdoms are not kind to a dwarf unable to wear proof of their training.”

Thorin scowled, “Despite what you have attempted, you will change your braids before the end of this quest. I will not have a warrior wearing the braids of a prostitute when he has proven himself in battle. That is my final word on the matter, Master Dori. Balin, inform Gloin and Oin that we no longer have a Release in this company. Dwalin, pass the notice to Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur. I will inform my nephews and our thief.”

“Sire, you have no need to tell Noral. He has never made use of my position, and never would. Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur have all ceased to make use of my services as well since Rivendell,” Dori stated proudly.

“Very well.” The three warriors walked away then, Balin glancing back at Dori as he reached his cousins’ side.

Dori only waited a few heartbeats after that before moving himself, going to search for Nori before anyone else saw him. He found his younger brother at Bofur’s side, his back pointedly in the direction of the rest of the camp, having thought the same as Dori that the services of the company’s Release would be on high demand. Bofur saw him first and his eyes widened.

Before Nori could turn around, Dori had already laid a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. He gave his younger brother a smile, not wanting to reveal Nori before he was willing. No one else in the company was paying attention to them when Nori surged up, wrapping his arms around his brother, his face buried against his shoulder.

Dori closed his eyes and held tight to his brother. “When we reach the mountain. When we’re there, I promise they’ll be changed for good, brother,” he whispered.

Nori nodded against his shoulder and pulled away, turning to Bofur sitting quietly and watching them in confusion. “Bofur, Dori is my brother,” he revealed softly.

“Oh! But… yer name?”

“It’s Nori. I couldn’t let anyone hurt my brothers because of my craft, so I always used a different name. Noral was what my teachers chose to call me and I just kept using it.”

Bofur’s confused face changed into a smile, “I won’t tell anyone. Protecting yer family is the noblest thing I think anyone can do. That’s what Bifur told us happened. Bombur and I changed our crafts to take care of him after the axe. We understand doing what ye can to keep yer family safe.”

 ------------------------------

At Beorn’s home, Dori enjoyed the peace for the first time on the quest. He had always known before they left that any chances to rest and relax would be his cue to do his part, but he didn’t need to worry about that any longer. He had spent an entire day sitting with Ori already, asking how his journal was going, helping him refine what he remembered from their conflicts.

The second day at the shapeshifter’s house, Dori was searching for his brother. Ori had gone off with the Princes, most likely cajoled into some mischief or other, and Dori refused to spoil what childishness the three could come up with while they were safe. Instead, he wandered about the shapeshifter’s home and grounds looking for Nori. It had been so long since the brothers had been able to talk with each other safely and Dori was determined to take hi chance to do so now while no one was watching them.

Dori grew more frustrated and concerned the longer it took to find his younger brother. Then, from an area surrounded by tall hedges, he heard Nori’s voice obviously speaking to another. Both voices were breathless and quiet and Dori worried his brother might be in trouble as he listened closer.

“I—I want more.”

“What is it you want? Just tell me and I’ll do it,” came Bofur’s unmistakable lilt and Dori’s eyebrow went up in surprise, a thought firming in his mind.

“Touch, please. I can’t—Nothing more, but please, touch me. Let me touch you.”

Bofur groaned and a few moment later Nori moaned out quietly, muffled. Dori backed away from the hedges quietly, a smile crossing his face. Spending time with his brother could wait. If Nori trusted Bofur enough to allow him such liberties, they deserved whatever time they had. However, if it had been Ori behind those hedges, he would have interrupted, at least to ensure the intentions were for more than a simple tumble. Nori, though, had been trained just as he had, as Ori might have been if Erebor hadn’t fallen. There was no innocence to protect for his younger brother, hadn’t been for nearly a century since his training was complete in his first trade.

Dori was still smiling slightly as he returned to the house and its immediate surroundings. Bifur was on the front porch whittling at some wood and he joined him to enjoy the calm day as much as he could. After a time Bifur got his attention and presented a dwarrow figure from the wood he had been carving on. As Dori looked closer, he recognized the style of clothing and the braids that wrapped about and hung from the figure’s head. Dori looked at him in shock; having thought only Balin had realized what his braids should be. Then Bifur’s hands were moving and Dori smiled at the question they conveyed.

“I would be honored, Bifur. Tonight?”

Bifur nodded and stood, giving a deep bow to Dori before he left back into Beorn’s halls. Dori couldn’t keep the pleased grin completely off his face as he sat in the shade, the world seeming brighter for just that short interaction. That was how Nori and Bofur found him hours later when they came back to the house side-by-side.

“What’s happened?” Nori asked in concern.

“Something good, if he’s happy, right?” Bofur asked the other dwarf.

“Happy? For Dori this would be practically giddy. It’s more than something good. Dori?”

“I’ve been asked. Properly. For the first time in more than a century, I’ve been asked,” Dori answered the grin growing into a full smile.

“B-By whom?” Nori sputtered.

“Bifur,” Bofur muttered, staring at the half-seen carving Dori still held in his hand. “Blimey, Bifur never… You’re definitely something special, Master Dori, if Bifur’s offered you a carving.”

“He is, Bofur. Hopefully soon you’ll know just how special,” Nori answered before he took the miner’s hand and pulled him into the house.

 ------------------------------

Dori knew that Thranduil had eyed him when they were being led away from his presence and he recognized the look. It wasn’t a surprise several hours later when a handful of the elven King’s personal guard came to retrieve him from the cell he’d been placed in. He could have fought them, likely have overpowered every one, but it would only make their situation worse. The rest of the company they passed watched in anger as he was led away, all but Nori, his gaze showing horror and nothing else. He knew why Dori was being led away and just before they were out of sight he screamed for the other.

Midnight was approaching when Dori was finally led back to the cells, hours after he had left. Much of the company had fallen into sleep, but there were a few still awake. Nori was standing at the bars to his own cell, knuckles white as he tried to keep his face clear of emotion until the guard had gone. Bifur was still awake, just watching Dori when he was locked again in the cell. Ori whimpered where he sat just beyond reach of the bars, his eyes on the stone floors.

“I’m alright,” Dori said just loudly enough for the three to hear him.

None of them replied and Dori sat carefully on the hard stone of his cell floor, breathing perfectly controlled despite the ache that was radiating from several points of his used body. Thranduil had known what his braids meant, but only the general meaning, not that they would only be worn by a company’s Release. If the alternative wouldn’t have been worse, Dori might wish that he’d allowed his brothers to change his braids before Mirkwood, but Thranduil would have recognized the other braids even faster and there was no telling what he may have done with that information.

An hour before dawn Dori was pulled from his sleep by a quiet cry. While he was not the deepest of sleepers, such a sound should not have taken him from his rest, but he knew that sound.   And hated it. He waited, breath held, hoping he had simply imagined it, but then it came again and his heart clenched.

“Noral!” Dori called quietly, hoping to wake him without revealing secrets Nori had tried to keep hidden for so long.

The cry came louder along with snarled cursing and then the sound of something hitting the bars of a cell. That brought several others away and it was Dwalin that answered his next call.

“There’s no one else with him. It looks like it’s just a night terror,” he said dismissively, irritated for having been woken from sleep.

“I already knew that, _Guard_ , but that isn’t a night terror,” Dori spat loudly.

“Dori, what’s wrong?” Ori called next, but a shout from Nori stopped the elder’s answer.

“Get off me, you mangy orc scat! Let go!”

“Noral!” Dori shouted as Ori chocked on a sob, hiding his face in his hands.

“You’re not _taking_ me, you vile, flea-bitten, whoresons, let me GO!”

“Nori!” Dori finally shouted, tears slipping down his own cheeks, knowing what his brother was fighting in his sleep.

“Get _off_ me! Stop, you _can’t_! STOP!”

“Nori!” Dori’s scream broke the other from his memories and they all heard a chocked off sob.

Those that could see into the thief’s cell noted the way Nori had curled up with his back to the cell wall immediately after waking. He was clenched up in a ball, with one arm wrapped about his bent knees and the other over his head as though it could hide him from the world, or his own mind. The sobs were silent now, but they knew from the shaking of his entire body even curled up tense, that they were very real.

A quiet song could be heard then, just loud enough to echo in the quiet after all the shouting. After a time they realized that it was Dori, the song a lullaby mothers in the Blue Mountains would sing to their babes to calm them. With the second verse, another voice joined in, a natural tenor harmony to Dori’s deeper baritone. Dwalin, whom was able to see into both Nori and Ori’s cell, was surprised to realize that the second voice came from the young scribe. It was also obvious that Nori was slowly calming with the singing. The silent, wracking sobs dying to shudders and his face slightly turned from where it had been buried against his knees.

By the last verse, the thief was joining in as well, his voice muddled slightly from the crying and lightly hoarse from the earlier screaming, but a perfect medium between Dori and Ori’s voices. Many of the dwarrow stayed awake the rest of that night with Dori continuing to hum songs quietly and Nori staring over towards the other’s cell.

In the morning two elves came to Nori’s cell and opened it. The thief had backed away from the opening, snarling, until Dori caught his attention. To the other dwarrow’s shock, the thief was taken across the dungeon to Dori’s cell and shoved inside with him. Balin was the only one in perfect view to see Dori catch the other carefully, bringing their foreheads together gently for long minutes.

Two nights later elves again came to escort Dori from his cell, Thranduil’s personal guards. He didn’t return until well after midnight, grimacing slightly as he limped between the return guards. Again, Nori was plagued by night terrors, having stayed up long enough to see Dori brought back, but this time he was woken before the shouting could begin and Balin slowly realized what the disturbances were about. The next afternoon Ori was pushed into Dori’s cell as well, instantly being wrapped up in Nori’s arms while Dori glared at the guards.

Every few days Dori was taken from the dungeons and each time he returned more roughed up than he had been the time before and closer to dawn. It became Ori’s place once he was in the cell to wake Nori from the night terrors that took hold of him every time Dori was taken away. By the time Bilbo came to them with a plan of escape, the rest of the company had realized the correlation between Nori’s night terrors and Dori’s purpose in being removed from the cell.

\-----------------------------

The morning after arriving in Laketown, a full night of safe sleeping behind them, Thorin, Balin and Dwalin confronted Nori about the name he used. The other two had explained the events to Thorin once they were away from the elves and the different name that Dori had used to wake the thief.

“So who’s name is Noral?”

The rest of the company silenced then as the thief stared at Balin. Dori and Ori came up, flanking their brother on either side despite the glare they were given for interrupting. Then, Thorin stared at the three quietly, eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the united front and how Nori seemed to stand straighter with the two beside him.

“Noral is a thief. A very good one,” Dori answered quietly to Thorin’s question.

Ori chimed in as well, almost like he was finishing the thought Dori had started, “Nori is our brother, and the same dwarf.”

Thorin studied them for silent minutes longer, the entirety of the company holding their breaths, before he gave a nod and turned his attention to Dori. “You’re braids need to change before we leave for the mountain as previously discussed. See that it is done.”

Nori’s shoulders sagged slightly as Thorin walked away, Balin and Dwalin following him. Dori chuckled slightly and threw an arm over his younger brother’s shoulder.

“Come, it’s time to do as the King has commanded,” Dori’s quiet words brought a soft smile to the thief’s face and the three made their way to the empty table in a corner of the room.

Much of the company blatantly watched what the three were doing, though it was mostly Dori and Nori and quick flashes of Nori’s knives. Before long there was a carved stone comb and several thin, long boxes lining the table in front of the elder. With an air of satisfaction, Nori moved behind his brother and began to remove the intricate braids that had been in Dori’s hair since the quest began. The dwarf’s hair was much longer than any of them had expected it to be, reaching well past Dori’s waist. When it was combed smooth, Ori moved to stand beside his brothers, ready to hold whatever strip of hair Nori asked him to.

Then, moments after he began braiding, several of the other dwarrow moved closer, eyes wide in shock. After thirty minutes Fili and Kili came over to Balin’s side, asking what was so special about the braids Nori was intertwining on Dori’s head. They had never seen their like before and didn’t recognize them from any description they had heard or read about.

“That is because the braids of that craft have never been seen in the Blue Mountains since the Battle of Azanulbizar. I’m sure Bombur and Bofur only remember them vaguely from their childhood. It was believed no Courtesan had survived the fall of Erebor, their guild hall one of the first Smaug had destroyed on his rampage. I have learned on this quest such was not the case entirely. You are gazing on the remnants of the most revered craft of dwarrow kind from Erebor.” Bifur, Balin, and Dwalin smiled in satisfaction when the last braid Nori added to Dori’s elaborate style was that of a warrior.

“Only another Courtesan would know how to braid those,” Thorin stated, his eyes focusing on Nori.

Dori picked up the remaining unopened box on the table and held it out to his brother wordlessly. Nori jerked back quickly, his eyes wide with terror and his entire form tense as only a few had seen after the night terrors in the elven dungeons.

“I can’t—I can’t,” the thief chanted, tone higher pitched than normal, thin and heartbroken.

“I know. I understand,” Dori said quickly, pulling Nori into his arms before he could flee. “They have always been yours, whether you change your braids or not, brother. They have always been yours.”

It was that statement which had all the older dwarrow understanding as well. There had been five beads in each of the boxes Dori had used for his own hair and each bead represented five years of his craft after apprenticeship. Even if Nori’s box held that same amount of five beads, he had not been long at his craft before whatever caused the night terrors happened. A courtesan was a noble craft, one that was respected just below that of royalty itself. To attack one in anyway was seen as treason against dwarrow kind, but an attack like that… Had any of them known about it, the perpetrators would have been executed without thought.

Ori had gone to his brother’s other side, wrapping his arms about Nori as well, mostly concealing the jerking of his shoulders as he wept, safe and acknowledged for what he should have been. The rest of the company went back to what they had been doing, giving the three privacy as Dori carefully led his brothers away from the common space and to the room Nori had chosen for himself.

Several hours later found the company sitting around the large kitchen table with full bellies. Ori was watching his brothers from across the furniture, enjoying the pleased look on Dori’s face at the courtesies the dwarrow were showing to both himself and Nori. Even Dwalin had given a respectful nod to the two, startling Nori. Bifur had chosen to sit beside Dori and always gave him preference on the food around them, just as a Courtesan would have expected from a large meal before Erebor’s fall.

Nori was beside him, unsure about the attention he was getting, despite only adding a single Courtesan braid to his hair. It was the braid a retired courtesan would use, allowing them the respect their craft held without the expectations that they were accepting clients. Bofur had politely asked to sit beside the thief and while he also gave Nori the same courtesy Bifur gave Dori, he ignored all other expectations for a Courtesan, managing to draw a startled laugh and shy smile from Nori. Ori knew from his reaction that Nori appreciated Bofur treating him much the same as he had before his first craft was discovered.

After everyone had settled from the meal to various locations around the room, Bofur pulled Nori over to a corner where they were mostly alone. “Can I ask you some things, Nori?”

The thief grew tense, but nodded, “I might not answer.”

“I understand. I was just… Why did you become a thief?” he asked, thumbs gently caressing the back of Nori’s hands.

Slowly, Nori pulled his hands away as a frown crossed his face and he crossed his arms defensively. “I’m sure you already know about—why I won’t wear the proper breads of my… craft. Everyone probably knows after that _elf’s_ …” Nori sighed and slumped, sliding down the nearest wall until he was sitting, Bofur following to sit in front of him, but didn’t reach for his hands again.

“After… they just left me in the alley, left me for dead. Half of my beads had taken, I only have two left and I never found the others. It was a couple thieves that found me, they were… Other dwarrow walked right past me, ignoring me except to sneer. One even had the gall to kick me because he had to step around me. The thieves were the only ones that helped. I was brought to where they were staying and helped as much as they could. It wasn’t because of my craft either. Most of my braids had been beyond recognition and it wasn’t until after I was bandaged that they cleaned the rest of me up. That’s when they first recognized my craft. One of their group, a dam a couple decades younger than I was had been granted permission to wash my hair. She saw the braids I still had, knew what they were. The lowest profession, criminals, and they were the only ones willing to help. All they saw was a young dwarf that had been—“ Nori cut himself off, curling into a ball and taking a deep breath.

“The group treated me with more respect than I had seen from anyone since Erebor’s fall. They treated me how a Courtesan was supposed to be treated without effort, but I was still treated like a dwarf the same as them. When I was healed enough to leave, they told me they’d been following the group, finding out where they all were, who they were. I was invited to go with them to see justice done.

“Turned out they were stealing from the men in the next village and even had a few young women from another village they kept for… entertainment. Every one of them was caught with the evidence the thieves ensured was with them. Along with the two women, the men imprisoned them and executed them when the extent of their crimes was discovered.

“I helped them. **It** helped, a little. I was already trained to be graceful, light on my feet, drawing attention and hiding from it in plain sight. Turned out I was light of fingers too. The thieves invited me to stay with them, no strings attached until I felt safe enough to travel home. They taught me how to fight with knives like they did, how to pick locks because I asked. I hadn’t intended to learn another craft, but I was good at it and I couldn’t bear the thought of what I had been. There were night terrors every time I closed my eyes. I couldn’t stand anyone’s touch for years unless I initiated it. They taught me everything and before I was even there long enough, I was leading them, still learning, but the prior leader had passed the reins to me.

“You have to understand, that doesn’t happen. No one takes over a den unless they killed the previous Master and paid the members to work under them. He freely gave me his den and helped me learn to run it, to keep them all safe. I was also training two of them to be Courtesans, as closely as they could get without a proper guild. The dam that had recognized my braids and her younger brother. They weren’t thieves, but they’d been taken in as children when the Master found them by their murdered parents. I couldn’t practice my craft, but I could teach others to take my place. They do not have the clientele or the reaches they should, but they practice their craft as if they were in Erebor’s High Court. The den protects them so nothing happens like what I went through. I can’t leave this craft, I can’t change now, and I can never—“

Nori’s eyes held tears when he looked up at the other dwarf, not noticing that the rest of the company was staring intently at them, silent enough they could hear every word of Nori’s history. “There’s nothing I can offer you, Bofur. I cannot give you any more than I have. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

“I don’t care, Nori,” Bofur said and dug into the lining of his boot clumsily, pulling something small out that he hid within his hand. “I planned to wait until we were in Erebor when I had more to offer you. It doesn’t matter to me if the most I can do is hold your hand. Nori, will you be my husband?”

In the miner’s hand was a small crystal carved delicately, carefully, with a mountain and a dragon and a small round door with a figure beside it with their peaks as it’s hair. Nori stared at it in shock, his mind trying to catch up with what he was hearing and seeing. He remembered that stone, having seen Bofur pick it up in the cave they had sheltered in before the Goblins caught them. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks before he reached up and grabbed Bofur’s face as he pressed their lips together.

“Yes.” Nori smiled and gave his answer again, their lips brushing together as he did, “Yes, Bofur.”

The smile on Bofur’s face echoed Nori’s and the two only looked away from each other when a throat was cleared nearby. They saw the rest of the Company watching them with grins on their faces and both their families only feet away. Dori was smiling proudly, his approving gaze centered on his brother while Bifur gave a hearty clap to Bofur’s shoulder in congratulations, nodding to Nori. Bombur gave them a quiet congratulations and Ori was nearly bouncing in place, his smile as wide as it could go.

“Welcome to the family, Bofur. And thank you for caring for him.” Dori said quietly, meeting the miner’s eyes.

“Dori,” Nori said, drawing his brother’s attention to the moisture gathered in his eyes, “Thank you, for everything.”


	2. After (Conclusion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the ending. I might do side pieces if there's interest in anything particular, but no guarantees.

\--- 5 years later ---

                Nori fingered the marriage braid in front of his ear before beginning the task of unraveling it and the warrior’s braid beside it as he thought of the last five years. So much had changed in his life, all for the better since the day his King and Princes were laid to rest in their stone tombs. At Thorin’s insistence before he passed, Dain made Nori a part of his Hidden Guard, the spies and thieves that worked under the King’s banner. Before Bilbo had been found and brought to his side, Thorin insisted that every member of the Company had earned their warrior braids and after what Dain had seen of their fighting during the battle, he did not question it. Nori had been amazed at the avenues the status had opened for him, enough even to have his den cleared of charges secretly and many of his best became part of the Hidden Guard as well.

Even the warrior’s braid did not give him as much respect and awe as the single braid hanging from his other temple. For so many years he had been too afraid to wear the status of his first craft, but not since that night in Laketown when Bofur asked for his hand. In Erebor’s halls, even amongst the rough soldiers and laborers, the sight of his or Dori’s braids would bring about a softening of noise in awe at their very presence. It was easy to tell when a new caravan of dwarrow had arrived to the mountain those first few years as they would fall into the same stunned silence at catching sight of either brother. At least until they realize that Dori and Nori were just as willing as the next laborer to pitch in wherever they could, than it was respect for _who_ they were, not what _craft_ they knew.

It was but a moment longer for Nori to begin returning his hair into the customary peaks he had worn for years, thinking on the first meeting with Dain and the Head of his Hidden Guard. The older thief had come to a halt as soon as he entered the room when he saw Nori sitting in a chair near the King. The dwarf had stuttered out a warning to the King all without removing his eyes from the younger thief.

Nori had simply laughed, and informed Dain that his reputation had preceded him. Then, his own sordid status came to light in front of the King. He was not just a thief that Thorin had learned to trust, he was _the_ Master thief in the West, and perhaps he would become so in the East if even the Hidden Guard had learned of him, though he’d also heard of the older dwarf who kept Dain safe.

Neither thief had informed the King that Nori was only recognized because he chose to be with the braid he’d placed in his hair beside the courtesan braid for the meeting. Only the three peaks and the normal braids of Noral could be seen now as Nori slipped from the secret room and out into the shadows, ignoring the near silent one that followed him. An hour later Nori was back in his office, the office of his den, washing hi hands and face of the blood that had collected there with the small washstand in one corner. A grunt came from the shadows behind him, but Nori didn’t even turn.

“That was the thief that was going to slit my throat a week ago.”

“Yes, it was, Dwalin.”

“It was those with him that turned on him when he was going to ignore that braid I let you slip into my hair.”

Nori hummed quietly, “It is a rare thief that would ever try to take on a Master.”

“They said that I was protected by the Gem. One even mentioned that he would not be fool enough to anger the King of the Underground,” Dwalin came closer and lightly touched the thief’s shoulder. “They were talking about you, weren’t they?”

Nori went still for a moment, not even breathing before he finally nodded, “Dain is already aware of it, as is the head of his Hidden Guard. You didn’t know the danger you would be in when you promised Bofur you’d watch out for me. The Underground has little honor, but no one touches those under a Master’s protection, not even another Master. I’m done here for the night, Dwalin. Go home to the little dam that tied herself to you. Rumor has it, she’s news for you. I’m going to Dori’s before I head home.”

“Alright, Nori. Thank you.”

 

Nori opened the outside gate to the Guild Hall with a smile on his face, hearing the excited chatter from the few apprentices. He could no longer be a practicing Courtesan due to his past, but he could help train the few whom approached the Guild for apprenticeships. His original two students were in charge of caring for the apprentices, being there for them in whatever capacity they needed. Neither himself nor Dori lived within the Guild Hall, so Vona’s and Kirna’s presence was a boon for their craft. It hadn’t taken much for Dori to acknowledge them as Masters after meeting them the first time and they had become the face of their craft with Dori simply training apprentices and running the day-to-day business of the Hall.

Nori met his brother in the front courtyard as he was just leaving the hall proper, “Dori, can I have some of your time?”

“Of course, brother! Do you wish to speak here or more privately?”

“Privately. Is Ori going to be at home tonight?”

“Not right away,” Dori answered with a slight laugh as he led the way out of the Guild Hall and down the street. “Dwalin invited him out to the training yard a week ago to make an example. Seems some of the newer guard apprentices are scrawnier than their fellows and were being harassed about it.”

Nori laughed, “So Ori was asked to come put them in their places about size differences.”

Dori nodded at his brother’s conclusion,, “Yes, put everyone one of them on their backs without breaking a sweat. Dwalin just sat back giving them as good a taunting as they’d given to the other apprentices, most of whom are larger than Ori even. He also managed to pick up an admirer.”

“What!?” Nori’s eyes were large as he stared at his brother. “A guard? Does Dwalin approve of him?”

“Aye, Dwalin approves. The day after Ori’s demonstration, the dam apologized openly in front of the entire guard to those she had ridiculed. She also took the time afterwards to work with any that needed assistance with learning something.”

“A dam! That’s rare in the guard. Ori accepts her admiration?”

Dori nodded, “She requested another spar with Ori and when he beat her again, with Dwalin watching as well as the other Guardsmen, she asked him out for a drink. This is the second time they’ve gone out, Ori said the first night they’d each only had one drink, too busy talking the rest of the time to drink more.”

“That’s good for Ori. He’s never been a heavy drinker except for special events. Did he find out anything about her family?”

“Yes,” Dori’s answer was accompanied by a frown.

“I know you don’t disapprove of her or Ori wouldn’t have gone out with her again.”

“No, she’s fine. She’s from the Iron Hills, snuck out to travel here with a small caravan. Her family was demanding she marry into an arrangement without a craft to her name, despite her interest in joining the guard. They wanted her as a political sacrifice as her mother had been, just an ornament for a lessor Lord, but her mother was dreadfully unhappy. She fled the day they were going to complete the paperwork and joined the guard as soon as she arrived. Dwalin said she is the top of her group of apprentices. Ori said that after what happened with her family, she swore that she would not accept a dwarf that wanted to control her.”

“And along came our Ori, Scrivener and Librarian, and able to topple her at, what, half her size?”

Dori laughed at the sardonic raised eyebrow of his brother, pleased that the worried seriousness from earlier had been replaced with amusement. “Roughly, yes. I‘ve only seen her in passing, but in another decade or two she might be able to give Dwalin a run for largest guard in Erebor. At least Ori’s found himself another friend outside the library beyond the Company, but… He’s talking about bringing her around to meet the ‘family’. The last dam that was brought round the Company—“

“You mean forced her way in,” Nori interrupted with a snicker.

“It would take a force of nature to get Dwalin’s attention, but see what happened there? If Ori brings her to one of our gatherings, which will happen next month, and she doesn’t run screaming for the nearest settlement away from here, she may find herself a permanent fixture.”

“If they get along as well as they seem to, I cannot imagine Ori complaining any.”

Dori led the way to the kitchen of his small home, very proper, clean, and organized, just as a Courtesan’s place was expected to be. “Ori will be as he always is, slightly oblivious until she says something, but secretly well aware of where things are going long before then. Now, what is on your mind, Nori?”

The question brought all the seriousness of before back to Nori’s face while Dori busied himself with making tea. “It’s about… Bofur,” he began hesitantly.

Dori’s only reaction was a pause in his movements before he continued, being deliberately calm so as not to jump to conclusions. “What has he done? Has he hurt you at all?”

“No! Bofur would never! No.”

The genuine shock on Nori’s face at the suggestion proved more to Dori than his vehement denial that the elder relaxed as he brought the teapot to the table to steep. “Good. Then, what can I help you with?”

“I—It’ll be five years next week and I… I want to do something special for him. I want to do more, but I’m—It was so hard to even think about before, but I _want_ …”

Dori hummed quietly and poured the tea. “What are you looking for? How far are you willing to push yourself? He’ll love you just the same if you can never give him any more than you already do.”

“I know that!” Nori growled out in obvious frustration. “I know he would, but _I_ want to.”

“Okay. So why not ask him to treat you like a new apprentice? Those whom the apprentices learn on are given strict instructions, are they not? Explain to him what he needs to do and trust him.”

“But what if I can’t? What if I get so far and can’t anymore? I don’t want to leave him like that, but…”

“Nori,” the elder said calmly, one hand covering his brother’s trembling one on the table, “he will love you no matter what and he’s not going to care. Even if you can only try, knowing Bofur, even that will be enough for him. If it takes you another five years to work up to what you want, your husband will be ecstatic about it, you’ll see.”

Dori could think of dozens of things he could say to Nori about what he wanted. How any man, even a King, could be brought to the point of stunned adoration by simply kneeling at his feet and undoing his belt with intent. He could mention the power that came with the act, but he knew that was the problem. Any power that Nori knew from his training in the act had been overshadowed by the loss of power when he was brutalized so long ago and he’d never been able to work past that.

“I’m just… scared.”

“I know, Nori.” At his brother’s skeptical look Dori continued with a snort, “Did you think I wasn’t terrified when dwarrow began returning to the mountain? These were men and women that had known me only as a prostitute. I didn’t know if I would have to justify my braids to every dwarf from Ered Luin in front of the courts. The Guild might not have been allowed to be created again if there was opposition to my craft. Everything I had ever hoped for and wanted could have been viciously ripped away by the profession I’d had no choice but to perform. Dain’s advisors, his eldest advisors, remembered mother and remembered me from before Erebor’s fall, it was their wisdom and memories that allowed Dain to grant the Courtesan’s Guild to be rebuilt without some kind of proof of my craft.”

“But Bifur—“

“Was my shield until the Guild Hall was rebuilt with Dain’s sigil of acknowledgment. He was the only reason I was not in front of the courts several times for beating the tar out of several dwarrow from Ered Luin.”

“You never said anything.”

“Nori, you had your own problems you were dealing with that you told no one of. Bofur was there for you when you needed him and Bifur was there for me. He has been the best patron I could have ever asked for, despite not needing one with my own share of Erebor. Trust in Bofur, and trust yourself, brother.”

 

Bofur returned home late from the toyshop he and Bifur owned. They didn’t need to work, none of the Company needed to, but not one of them was content to sit and waste their days away with nothing to show for it. Most days were wondrous, dealing with the dwarrowlings and seeing the joy upon their faces at each new toy they saw. Some days were not so wonderful and _that_ day had been one of those times.

It was a well-kept secret that the cousins charged what they thought could be afforded rather than what the toys were worth, but sometimes even that was too much. The dam that had come into the shop had been looking more for work than a toy for her daughter, but there had been the little doll with a woolen knitted dress the dwarrowling was attracted to, no matter what other toys she saw.

When Bofur had offered it to her for just a few bronze pieces, the dam had been insulted at the show of charity and stormed away before Bofur could explain. Bifur had seen her as well and put the doll behind the counter until they met her again and could explain. She was obviously new to Erebor for every year on the anniversary of the mountain’s reclaiming Dain had the entire Company presented to the mountain in thanks, much to their embarrassment. At least he never tried to control their gatherings, no matter how rowdy they became, and they were always left alone on the anniversary of the battle when they had lost so much.

There were no lights to be seen from outside the home when he entered, such wasn’t unusual with Nori’s second craft and his position within Dain’s court. He hung up his hat out of memory where the hook was and had toed a boot off halfway when he noticed quiet breathing from the room. His hand slowly reached behind him and grabbed the handle of the dagger he kept in the small of his back ever since Nori and Dwalin had trained the Company to fight properly and not so properly.

“How was the shop today?”

Bofur let out his breath in a huff and finished removing his boots, “Love, what are you doing sitting in the dark like this? I didn’t think you were home yet.”

“I… didn’t think about getting up to light anything. I’ve been home for a while.”

“Is there something wrong? You sound pensive,” Bofur asked as he shed his jacket and began carefully walking through the dark house to Nori’s chair, the only one Nori sat in when he was thinking. He wasn’t worried that anything physically was amiss since not one of Nori’s codes for danger had been spoken.

“Just a lot on my mind. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, Bifur and I were working late on a new toy and talking through an encounter in the shop today.”

There was a smile in Nori’s voice when he answered, “You can tell me a description tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do to help. I just want to curl up with you tonight.”

A chuckle escaped the toymaker as his husband led him through the dark to their room where Bofur could see faint light flickering from the doorjamb. He looked at Nori curiously, but the other gave nothing away. It wasn’t long before they were curled up together in bed, Nori’s head resting easily on his bare chest and fingers playing with the curls scattered heavily.

“Bofur, I need you to do something for me.”

“Whatever you need, love. Just ask and it’s yours.”

Nori sat up beside him and the look in his eyes had Bofur frowning. There was love and lust, but there was also a trace of fear there when Bofur’s arms were pinned to the bed.

“Don’t move… please. Just—don’t move at all.”

“Okay. Is everything al—“ Bofur cut off and his eyes widened when Nori took hold of his underthings and pulled them down just off his hips.

Nori glanced up at him once more, determination in his eyes beyond what Bofur had seen from him in years. “Don’t move.”

Bofur held his breath, eyes wide, as Nori bent over his member, well on it’s way to being fully onboard with what was happening. At the first slick swipe of Nori’s tongue up his shaft, Bofur threw his head back, but forced his hips still, his hands twisting in the bedcoverings beneath him. He couldn’t bit back a moan at the next wet touch though and his eyes slipped half-way closed as he gazed at his husband.

Nori had such an intense look of concentration on his face as he watched closely at what he was doing, but he glanced up at Bofur to meet his eyes. The toymaker swore that he could see some of the tension drain out of his husband with just that look and Nori’s mouth relaxed even as it became tighter around his shaft, more skilled, and Bofur groaned at the moist glove surrounding him.

Nori settled into the distantly familiar motions with an ease that surprised him with how terrified he’d been just hours ago, but at the sight of Bofur’s face, the love shining out of his gaze along with the lust as he looked at him, sent a thrill running down his spine reminiscent of when he’d first learned how to use his mouth to bring pleasure. His own member had been mostly flaccid until then, his nerves and fear too much to really show enjoyment, but at his husband’s groan, it began to perk up with interest.

Bofur’s eyes were glazing over as they always did when he was nearing his peak and Nori pulled out every trick a Courtesan was ever taught to increase such pleasure. His husband had never hidden how much he enjoyed whatever Nori gave him, but this time the whimpers coming from him with nearly every heavy breath made Nori want to wind him up higher, force him towards the pinnacle in a way he hadn’t yet been able to.

Finally, there was a loud outcry from the toymaker and a moment later he spent into Nori’s mouth, having just enough presence of mind to keep his instinctive bucking to bare twitches through his stomach and thighs. Nori tried to swallow it, but a flash of a different taste in his memory had him jerking back, coughing.

Even through the haze, Bofur reached out for his husband, lightly gripping one of his hands, words shaky, “Are you alright, love? I’m sorry, Nori. You’re just so good I didn’t realize it was going to come so fast on me. Are you okay?”

Nori wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his eyes holding Bofur’s and nodded before crawling up the bed to sit at his side. Bofur pushed himself up on one arm and reached out for Nori, his hand digging lightly into the hair at his scalp, and brought him down enough to meet their lips together. He ignored his own taste as he swept through Nori’s mouth, picking up any lingering bits for his husband. Afterwards he blindly reached down at the side of the bed for his used tunic, snagging it for Nori to wipe his hands clean. It was at that time Bofur noticed Nori’s erection, only half interested now, and Bofur licked his lips.

“Let me take care of you now, love?”

Nori froze for a moment before slowly nodding. He had never asked for Bofur to do that before and his husband had never offered, but… “Only if you want to.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve always enjoyed using my mouth, but I didn’t want to scare you and I know some dwarrow just don’t care for it. I guess I could have mentioned it sooner though,” Bofur said with a twisted smile, sad, but playful at the same time.

A smile crossed Nori’s face and he brought a hand up to caress his husband’s mustache. “I don’t know what I might have done before, but if you want to, I won’t complain, just—be careful in case…”

“Like before then. If your hand leaves mine, I stop, no questions asked. I won’t have you afraid of me, Nori, not for anything.”

The thief’s smile was answer enough for Bofur to lean on Nori, urging him to lay back against the thick pillows they had stacked at the head of their bed. Two of their hands entwined as Bofur slid down his husband’s body, laving attention to the lean muscles of Nori’s torso on his way to his prize. In return, Nori’s other hand was resting on Bofur’s head, just lightly petting the toymaker’s hair as his shaft perked up with renewed interest.

When Bofur finally reached his husband’s erection, he again wet his lips and met Nori’s eyes as he slowly licked up the shaft from base to tip, before sucking the hard flesh into his mouth, making Nori cry out. Bofur may not have known the tricks his husband did, but he enjoyed what he was doing and his enthusiasm made up for it.

It had been so long since Nori had let someone do this for him and the eager way Bofur worked him had Nori on edge in short order. Then Bofur hummed as the hand in his hair clenched reflexively and Nori was blind-sided by his peak rushing through him, crying out his husband’s name without thought. When he finally came down from his high, Nori realized that Bofur had swallowed all of his spending and was lapping at his relaxing member as though looking for more.

Bofur glanced up when he felt a gentle hand on his cheek to see Nori staring at him with love and tears in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, gathering his husband into his arms and let Nori sob as he buried his face against his chest. There was no holding back and Bofur slowly hummed soothingly one of his bawdy drinking songs, the changed tempo making it much more appropriate.

“Thank you, Bofur.”

“Anything you need, you have but to ask. I love you, Nori, and nothing’s going to change that,” Bofur paused, squeezing Nori lightly to him. “Thank you, for trusting me enough to try this. Whenever you want something or want to try something, just tell me what you need me to do and I’ll be your faithful servant.”

Nor gave a laugh at that, looking up through red-rimmed eyes and a blotchy face, “I love you, too, my husband.”

“You’re beautiful, love, so beautiful,” Bofur sighed as he gazed at Nori.

“Happy anniversary, Bofur.” Nori smiled broadly at the stunned look that hit Bofur’s face as he realized what had prompted the night’s activities.

The toymaker pulled him close and held on tightly, his own tears mingling with Nori’s, neither ashamed at the emotion they wouldn’t hide from each other, wanting everything the other was willing to give.


End file.
